


Do me like one of your gay porn guys

by dollyboy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dildos, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollyboy/pseuds/dollyboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean’s sex drive is pretty normal for a guy his age, but his lust for naked guys with dongs to tear you in two is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea, I just wanted to write Jean masturbating. It's a quick, short, no plot thing, you know the drill. I just want it out of my hands so I don't chicken out and not post it. It's chapter 1 because I'm gonna write a secong chapter where he _does_ get fucked by someone (dunno who yet) but I don't know when'll that happen, but it'll happen. Because I'm a horny fuck, I'm sorry (not, except for the title, oh god what was I thinking). I really hope you like it!
> 
> Forgot to mention I have a [tumblr](http://dollyb0y.tumblr.com).

The magazines Jean hides under his mattress have guys with twice as big cocks as his 17 year old self. It manages to turn him rock hard in mere seconds and at the same time make him feel a little inferior, although he knows he’s always been a late bloomer, so there’s still hope for him. He hit puberty late compared to other guys in his class, and it’s not like he’s got a small dick or anything. He’s seen some of his friends’ when they've showered after gym classes and they thought Jean wasn’t looking, when he, in fact, was, and he’s definitely bigger than most of them. Not as big as Bertl but that guy is freakishly tall so of course he has to have a dick to match.

Jean likes looking at the magazines when he’s horny and he likes to look at them to get horny. At first he starts out slowly; scanning the pages unhurriedly, his eyes lingering on each erect dick and oily set of abs or ass cheeks or whatever until his gut starts coiling and his blood starts rushing, his other hand lazily massaging himself through his skinny tight jeans. When he gets hard enough he unfastens his belt and all the buttons, adjusting himself so his cock isn’t trapped in between his thigh and the inflexible denim. He plays with the tip through his underwear until he’s wet enough to soak through the boxers.

This is the best part, the moment before he really gets into it, when he’s perfectly aware of what’s going to happen and it excites him. Jean likes teasing himself. When he’s in the mood, he denies himself of the orgasm as long as he can, jerking off until he’s almost over the edge and then he stops. Then he waits and calms himself down enough so that he doesn’t come when he gets into it again, still looking at buff guys fucking each other sore on the sticky pages of the magazines. He imagines what it would be like to get rammed like that and it sets his veins on fire with lust.

He gets up from his comfortable position on the bed to get out of his jeans. He’s in no hurry; he’s got the house all for himself for hours. And today he’s going to try something special, something _new_. He can barely contain his excitement, his eager teenage cock twitching, hidden under the soft fabric of his black boxers. Oh yes, today he is going to finally know what it feels like to be fucked. Well, almost at least. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth and his breathing has already picked up its pace as he opens the drawer of his bedside table and empties it of its contents on the floor. Then he feels the bottom with his fingers until he finds the tiniest hole where he can fit his finger. He eases the fake bottom out and smiles to himself as he lifts it enough to get the thing underneath out.

It was risky as hell since he had to get up early every morning to check the mail before his parents did. His dad never slept past seven, not even on his days off, so Jean had to use some weak excuse to be up at about the same time on his fucking summer vacation in case the mail came early. Of course it never did before nine and by that time both his parents were out of the house, so Jean ended up spending two hours up for nothing, morning after morning. It did good to his sleeping schedule but made his parents suspicious.

Then one day he overslept and nearly had a heart-attack as his mom came knocking on his door, telling something had arrived in the mail for him. Turned out it was from one of the colleges he had applied to, and his mom seemed to be more thrilled about it than he was. He was more excited about the dildo he had ordered online than going to college after summer, which may have been a little sad and more than a little pathetic, but right now, holding the flesh-coloured thing in his hand, he doesn’t give a shit.

Jean’s sex drive is pretty normal for a guy his age, but his lust for naked guys with dongs to tear you in two is not.

He hadn’t been sure whether to get a vibrator or a normal dildo, so he went with the safest bet. It’s moderately sized, nothing too extreme or weird, because he knows he wouldn’t be able to pull off anything the size of the guys he jerks off to. Not yet, anyway. His mouth waters a little at the thought and then he finally gets moving. He slides his boxers off and jumps back in the bed. He’s got everything set up; the dildo, a half-empty bottle of lube and one of his favourite magazines. His mom is one of those hysteric, nosy parents who monitor their kids’ internet use, so he can’t take any chances with internet porn. That’s actually the only thing that makes him eager to go away to college: to finally get away from under his parents’ keen eyes.

Doesn’t matter, though, the still images feed his imagination more anyway. He sets his pillow behind his back and rests against the headboard, sliding lower so he’s half-sitting and half-lying. He bends his knees and sets the magazine to his left side so he can flip through it with his other hand.

This is the best part. He starts out slowly, loosely sliding his hand along his length and spreading the clear precum all over himself until the dick is throbbing in his hand. His gut is tingling and he’s already on the verge of coming with his mind going into overdrive and his body aching for a release, that he lets the hard cock flop against his stomach. He hasn’t jerked off for a week, which is a _long_ time for a horny almost 18 year old kid to not jerk off. He wanted this to be special and mind-blowing. He rolls his t-shirt off his stomach, leaving it tugged under his armpits. He runs his hand up his stomach, sighing into the quiet air, his skilful fingers finding his nipples. He keeps his eyes on the pictures; on the hunk showering with a raging hard-on and he moans softly, the nubs hardening as he rubs his thumb against them. He takes one between his fingers and pulls and pinches it a little. His toes curl and he holds his breath, quickly turning next page. He whimpers and bites his lips, momentarily forgetting he doesn’t have to keep his voice down, not this time.

He reaches for the lube and barely gets it open with his hands shaking so much but when he does, he quickly slicks his fingers, sliding even lower and spreading his legs more. He reaches between them, this time letting his eyes fall shut as he circles his entrance, spreading the lube around before he starts pushing his index finger in.

He loves the way his body refuses at first before it gives in and lets his finger slide in, a wanted intruder. He usually takes this slow and enjoys the way his body gets more and more receptive, his hole stretching and his cock aching to be played with, but this time he decides to rush it a bit. He needs something thicker than the two or three fingers he usually uses.

So he fingers himself quickly, adding a second finger as soon as he finds his prostate, arching his back and raising his hips a bit so he can reach it better. He hums at the feeling and his hips buck up against his fingers. He keeps it up for a minute or two, curling his fingers against the sweet spot, letting a series of lewd moans and gasps escape his flushed lips. He imagines it’s someone else shoving their fingers inside him and making his whole body tense up, and the vivid images behind his lids make him shudder violently. Finally he forces a third and a fourth finger inside and bites his lip and furrows his brow at the slight burn. Eventually it eases as his body gets used to it and he pushes all his fingers in to the knuckle, drawing in a long breath through his nose. His dick is curved against his stomach and it’s connected to it with a clear string of precum leaking like crazy from the tip.

When the four fingers slide in and out as painlessly as possible, he lies back on the bed now completely on his back and shuffles around for the dildo. He contemplates on using a condom but because he doesn’t have one within reach, he decides against it and starts lubing the thing up. It feels solid but flexible under his touch and his heart makes a few extra skips at the thought of how it’s going to be buried inside of him soon. He pushes himself up a notch so he can skip to his favourite part of the magazine. There’s one guy bent over a table or whatever with his eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a silent moan, and the other guy balls-deep in his ass, his fingers sunken into the skin of the other guy’s waist. Nothing special, but Jean imagines himself bent over like the dude in the picture and positions the dildo against his entrance. He uses his other hand to spread his cheeks and taking a deep yet shaky breath he imagines he’s not home alone masturbating but with some hot guy who’s about to fuck him into another dimension.

Then he starts pushing it in. It feels completely different than his fingers, that’s his first thought. For one thing, it spreads him open much more and it feels like it’s getting bigger and bigger with every inch sliding in even though it’s the same girth from beginning to end. He holds his breath as he pushes it deeper. It hurts, definitely, and it doesn’t help he can’t get himself to relax, his ass convulsing involuntarily around the thing. He takes a few moments to adjust to the foreign object inside of him, concentrating only on his breathing. The stinging sensation numbs down pretty fast and when it does, he takes a deep breath and slides it as deep as it goes with one push. This time he moans, _loudly_ , as it pushes against his walls and forces them to make room for it.

It feels good, it actually does. He’s gripping the sheets with his free hand without even realising, and he feels so full like never before. He feels fucking _impaled_ and he loves it. With one, shaky whimper he pushes it all the way in and his thighs tense and relax, his toes curling in on themselves. He pushes his hips up from the bed and moves around, and he _feels_ every bit of the dildo. Every goddamn inch crammed into his tight hole. He pulls it out almost entirely, only an inch or two keeping him open and then he pushes it all the way in.

He moans again, just as loudly as before. It feels so good and behind his closed eyes he’s picturing someone hovering above him, the dildo connected to them and he pulls it out and shoves it back in again with more force this time.

His back arches off the bed and he imagines the person pinning him into the bed by his wrists. He imagines them leaning down to him and he tries to reach in for a kiss, but he’s denied of it, the person pulling back with a teasing smirk. They pull their cock out of him and ram back in, making Jean half-scream, half-moan their name. He spreads his legs wider, impossibly wide, and the person uses the opportunity to slide out almost entirely again and then to push in deeper than before.

Jean’s seeing stars. He doesn’t give himself a break to catch his breath and keeps fucking himself with the dildo with a delicious, steady pace now, and his balls are fucking _aching_. He doesn’t touch himself, not just yet, not even though there’s precum everywhere, dribbling down his side and to the mattress beneath him. Not even though his erection is starting to hurt, slapping softly against his own stomach as he moves his hips in time to meet the thrusts of the dildo.

He’s heard about guys who can come from just getting fucked in the ass and _god_ , he wants to be one of those guys.

There’s no resistance anymore. His ass has submitted to the thing, taking it in its’ hot, wet, tight embrace with every snap of Jean’s wrist. In his delirious, horny state he almost, _almost_ regrets not getting a thicker one, but later, as his ass will be sore and tender he will thank himself for _not_ doing that. It doesn’t matter that much anyway, this one’s doing the job pretty well, turning Jean into a shaking, sweating, moaning mess.

But no matter how good it feels, it’s just a shy of feeling good _enough_. So he slides the dildo out reluctantly, his ass suddenly feeling empty, and gets up on his knees. He fights his way out of his t-shirt and throws it on the floor to accompany his other clothes. In this position he’ll be able to reach his prostate better and spreading his thighs as wide as they go, he leans forward and rests his weight on his other hand as he slides the thing back in. He sighs contently at the feeling as his ass welcomes the dildo happily. It feels like it’s supposed to be there, like he’s supposed to have a dick up his ass.

Up until now, he’s been careful not to go _too_ hard or too rough, but he decides fuck that. So he angles the thing in a way it’ll be fucking nailing his prostate directly and he starts fucking himself furiously, his hand moving almost as fast as when he’s jerking off, when he’s right on the verge of shooting his load.

Yeah, this position is so much better. His eyes roll at the back of his head and he _wails_ , his stomach tightening at the feeling. His arm starts quivering pretty fast under his weight and he’s determined to come before it gives in. He keeps thrusting the dildo in, his wrist starting to protest and his thigh muscles cramping. He’s hanging just over the edge, almost there but not quite so he finally gives in and straightens himself enough so he doesn’t have to lean his weight on his arm, and wraps his long fingers around his cock. It pulses hotly under his touch and his hand slides effortlessly in the wet precum.

With just a few strokes and a few, hard thrusts deep in his ass and he’s coming. He’s coming so hard it _hurts_ and it makes everything in his vision go white, his ass clenching so tightly against the dildo he feels every vein and every little bump on the surface. Some of the cum lands on his sheets, some on his stomach and most of it covers his hand and spills over his fingers. After he’s shot out everything he’s got he falls on his face and blacks out for a few moments before his brain rewires itself and starts working again. And then he’s already making plans in which position he wants to get fucked next.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's appalled to find out that no matter how much of a pig he is, there is someone who is even dirtier and messier than he is. The name of this hideous creature is Eren, and so far Jean has only seen glimpses of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what happened. I was supposed to write a continuation where Jean gets laid and then... this monstrosity happened. I'm not trying to force a plot on this I swear. It was getting too long SO I decided to divide it into two chapters. Okay, so, the next chapter will definitely be the last one and it's gonna be the smutty smut smut that THIS chapter was supposed to be. Also this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever written. I'm sorry. I'm posting it because I want it our of my hair and I don't even care. Just... Take it, okay? But don't take it too seriously, I've spent TWO DAYS writing this and that's just unacceptable. I am not wasting another second on something that was born from my need to write Jean masturbating. I hope to make this up for you in the next chapter. It will be definitely graphic and very, very smutty.

Jean’s mom kisses his cheek on the door before he forces both of his parents out, his face slowly turning redder than the shirt he’s wearing. He quickly checks over his shoulder to make sure his new roommate isn’t anywhere in the proximity to have seen or heard anything. His mother still treats him like her precious little boy and because Jean has been raised to respect his parents, he can’t really yell at her or express to her how much her public displays of affection embarrass him. Instead he’s forced to endure the multiple hugs and kisses and the tears she’s shed over the fact that her _only son_ won’t be living with her anymore.

He’s just moved a few hours away from the city he was born and raised in and he’s never felt freer in his life. The three hours in between him and his overprotective parents make a vast improvement in the quality of his life.

In plain English it means he’s free to wank whenever he feels like and no one, _no one_ will be monitoring his internet usage, his dirty laundry, how late he stays up at night or his grades at school. He’s starting to think going away to college in another city is, so far, the best life choice he has ever made. He’s very conveniently forgetting the unpleasant things that come along with the new territory; no one there to wash his dishes, to make him dinner or to clean after him. He figures he can handle that, besides, he’s got a roommate, so it’s not like he’ll be forced to take care everything by himself.

Or so he thought. Three weeks later he’s appalled to find out that no matter how much of a pig he is, there is someone who is even dirtier and messier than he is. The name of this hideous creature is Eren, and so far Jean has only seen glimpses of him. Once it happened at a really late hour when he got out of his room to get some water and Eren had crawled home, drunk off his ass, and decided to pass out in the middle of their kitchen floor. Jean had a minor heart attack and he gave a very shrill shriek that Eren fortunately didn’t remember the next day. It woke Eren up, who, as quickly as a drunken person seeing everything in two only could, ran to his own room. Another sighting of this rather rare species was one day before Jean’s lectures when Eren was lounging around in their shared living room wearing none other than his birthday suit. His only words were ‘laundry day’ and then he continued his rather carefree lounging. On their shared couch. _Naked_.

So Jean hasn’t seen him much, although he’s seen _enough_ , but somehow Eren’s still all over the apartment. His dirty and even dirtier pairs of socks are everywhere, yet none of them seem to be pairs with each other. It seems like the second they come off of Eren’s feet they are abandoned and left to survive on their own. Then there’s underwear which Jean doesn’t even want to look closely enough to know whether they’re dirty or not. There are empty glasses, Jean’s and Eren’s because Eren seems to think when he runs out of his own clean dishes, it’s completely okay for him to use Jean’s.

Well it’s not. And Jean tries to hint him about it by leaving notes around the place. He even scribbles little, non-threatening smileys on them. At first they’re friendly because Jean doesn’t want to piss off the guy who shares an apartment with him. Then, as time goes by and Eren has done absolutely nothing to take the subtle hints Jean’s giving him, the notes turn angrier. By the time they’re all out of dishes and the sink is full of cups Eren has used maybe _once_ , Jean goes to bang on his door because this simply cannot do. He is _not_ going to clean after some bastard who likes hanging his dick out for everyone (read: Jean) to see whether they want it or not. He’s at his limits and he’s going to give an earful about it to the guy.

The door flies open when Jean’s getting ready to bang it the third time, and he almost hits Eren in the face. Luckily he doesn’t, because Eren looks bothered as hell, and it kind of takes away some of that angry energy Jean has been dwelling on.

“What do you want?” he grumbles, those malachite eyes boring straight through Jean’s skull.

“I, uhh, I...” Jean swallows through the thickness in his throat. All he can think of now is Eren’s dick.

“Yeah? Can you talk?” Eren raises his eyebrows but he still looks extremely annoyed, and Jean shrinks a little under his gaze.

“I can,” he mumbles. Eren snorts and Jean shrinks even more. “I, I…”

“ _Yeah?_ ” Eren presses on.

“We don’t have any clean dishes,” Jean is able to mutter, and his face turns redder after every word. Eren just blinks at him, unfazed, before he snorts again.

“Be a good boy and do the dishes, then, yeah?” He says it like it’s _obvious_ , which it kind of is, Jean admits, but didn’t he have something else he wanted to say?

“It’s just…” he mumbles. Eren is about to have it with him by the looks of him, but he doesn’t say anything. Yet. “Could you maybe… Do your share?” Jean expects the guy to hit him in the face. He doesn’t, though, but something tells Jean he’s not going to do the dishes, either.

“I’m busy.” And with that Eren takes the liberty to end the discussion by closing the door on Jean’s red face. So the blonde swallows his pride and does both of their dishes. He contemplates on breaking something of Eren’s, but then he remembers the scary face the guy pulled at him and decides against it. Maybe he’ll just spit in something Eren owns and he’ll never know. Or maybe not.

He swears he’s not going to let Eren intimidate him to do his dishes _all_ the time, and it works until one day when he comes home from an exhausting amount of lectures to find the sink full again. That wouldn’t be the worst thing, he _could_ live with that because he’s tired and hungry and not willing to fight about it _again_ , but then finds the fridge empty. All the food, even his, gone. How can a guy so small eat so goddamn much? There’s a small but persistent vein throbbing in Jean’s head and as if to top it all, he hears Eren turn whatever the shit he’s listening to up to volume million at least, and it blares through the whole apartment like a fire alarm. The dirty dishes rattle in the sink and Jean tries so hard not to pick them up one at a time and throw them on the wall.

He bangs on Eren’s door. It takes a whole lot of banging to get Eren to hear it, and it’s a miracle he can hear anything at all anymore, but suddenly the music goes off and Eren opens the door. This time Jean regrets _not_ hitting the guy in the face, angry frown or not.

“The dishes,” he barks, and Eren looks at him like he’s a complete moron. “And the _food_.”

“Got it,” Eren responds and sets out to close the door, but out of annoyance Jean hits his fist against it. It hurts and he winces, but at least Eren doesn’t close the door. “Look, blondie, I’m busy. Go away.” Jean squeezes both of his hands into tight balls.

“Do not call me that,” he grunts. “And for god’s sake, stop eating my goddamn food you fucking moron.” Eren’s eyes narrow and he looks like a snake ready to sink his sharp fangs on Jean’s neck.

“What did you just call me?” he murmurs.

“You heard me damn well,” Jean spits out. “Stop acting like a fucking _brat_.” Eren blinks at him and for a moment Jean is sure they’re going to get physical, and he wonders quickly whether he could take Eren or not. The guy is shorter than him but probably in better shape, so it could go either way.

“Wow, your insults really hurt me,” Eren says with a deadpan expression. “Sorry man, I was hungry, what can I say. Order a pizza, it’s on me.”

“But—” Jean starts and suddenly Eren’s shoving wrinkled bills in his direction. “But, uh, the dishes…”

“I’ll give you ten dollars if you do them.” Quite frankly Jean would’ve rather they did a little wrestling to solve this problem. He’s not sure how he feels about getting bribed, because now he can’t really yell at Eren anymore. Besides, there’s a load of sexual frustration turning into restlessness and it’s building in his gut, and he hasn’t really had time to release it in a while. A little fight would help with that, although Jean’s a horrible fighter.

“Fine,” he mumbles and takes the money Eren’s still holding out for him. “But just this once.”

“Yeah, of course,” Eren agrees and slides back into his cave, but not before he’s made sure Jean’s okay with him closing the door. Jean does the dishes again.

And then three months into their living arrangements, he’s still doing them. He’s found out it’s less exhausting just sucking it up than trying to coax Eren to do them. The guy has agreed to meet him halfway though, or more like one third of the way, and when he’s eaten all of their food once again, he orders takeaway for Jean. Or for them both, because that guy eats a _lot_. And somehow it keeps happening, so now whenever Jean comes home, Eren’s ready with a few near-by restaurants’ menus and phone numbers. Sometimes it’s pizza, sometimes Chinese, and once it was both because they just couldn’t decide. It’s actually not that bad now that they’ve found a routine that works for them, and Jean knows his mother would be so _proud_ of him if she knew how he was taking care of his sloppy roommate’s messes. Not like she’s ever going to know, she already fusses over every damn thing he’s ever done even half right in his life, and that’s enough embarrassing moments to last for a lifetime. He’s still not touching Eren’s underwear though, even if he sometimes finds himself picking the mismatched socks and other random pieces of clothing from their living room. Eren doesn’t say anything about it but once in a while Jean finds a packet of cookies or other sugary treats from the kitchen with notes on them that say ‘jean’.

Then comes a rainy day. It’s pouring like mad outside and Jean has skipped all his classes, because he doesn’t own anything that would have kept him even relatively dry on his walk to campus. Eren’s out, somewhere, he doesn’t really say anything when he leaves the apartment, and sometimes Jean doesn’t know whether he’s even home or not. He’s usually very quiet and harmless, but there are days when the music that could destroy nations makes theirs and their neighbours’ windows rattle in their frames. Jean bought a pair of earplugs just for those days, because he’s learned that Eren has his own reasons for abusing his own poor ears so. He doesn’t ask about it but by the looks of some things Eren owns, he might or might not have some anger issues. Jean doesn’t bring anything that breaks easily and is valuable to the apartment.

But he’s not home now and Jean’s watching porn on his computer because he’s at least two things: horny and bored. At first he’s not sure which one he is more, but eventually his horniness outweighs his boredom. He’s already hard enough to cut through stainless steel so he whips his cock out, pushing his jeans on his thighs and sliding a little lower, taking a more comfortable position on his chair. He sighs at the touch of his own, warm hand, and he starts slowly and nicely, just the way he likes it. He slides even lower in his chair and bites his lip, holding his breath as he squeezes his length harder, circling his thumb over the wet head. He’s extra sensitive because lately he hasn’t had time for anything else than quickies in the shower before school. He turns the volume louder after making sure Eren hasn’t still come home. He leaves the door of his room open so he’ll hear when he _does_ come home, so he’ll have enough time to react. But by the amount of pressure in his gut and his groin he’s not going to last too long anyway.

After playing with himself for a moment, he decides to just get it over with, give himself the much needed release. His hormone infused brain goes through a lot of dirty images as he moves his hand faster and tries to concentrate on the porn that’s speeding up on his screen at the same pace as his hand. And he really, _really_ can’t help that he’s thinking of Eren all of a sudden, or at least part of his brain is. And he’s thinking of Eren naked and he suddenly realises he’s seen Eren _naked_ and he groans in his other fist pressed against his mouth as his whole body convulses and he comes messily over his hand and on his bare thighs. By the time Eren gets home, Jean’s hid himself in his bed, trying to sort this horrible tragedy out. He didn’t just jack off to his roommate, did he? No, he didn’t. He just happened to come at the same time as Eren made an unwanted appearance in his mind.

But then all of a sudden Eren’s everywhere. Not like before; he’s been everywhere all this time anyway, but now… Now he’s _everywhere_. Jean catches a whiff of the strange aftershave he uses, and he uses it too much, but now, suddenly, it makes Jean shudder but not of disgust. His dirty laundry is still everywhere but suddenly Jean’s perfectly aware that those dirty boxers have been wrapped around Eren and his bare ass, and when Eren one day lounges in his underwear in the kitchen, Jean’s eyes drop on his ass and he has to pinch himself hard to stop thinking about what he’s thinking about.

Eren has a great ass. He’s not skinny like Jean is, he’s not all bones and pale skin stretched over them, no. He’s got broad shoulders, skin of the colour of cinnamon, and Jean’s vaguely aware of Eren’s roots located somewhere in the Middle East. That’s all he knows and he doesn’t dare to ask for clarification, especially _now_ that he’s just gaping at Eren’s ass and at that strong-looking, smooth back. And he realises Eren could easily win him if they ever wrestled, and he bites his lip, following flustered as Eren finishes making himself a sandwich of all the leftover food in their fridge.

When he turns around, Jean’s caught by surprise and he realises he has no excuse whatsoever to be standing there, staring at the half-naked guy in the kitchen minding his own business. But Eren doesn’t even flinch.

“Sup,” he says lazily. He doesn’t seem to give two craps about the blushing Jean standing in place, sweating under his clothes like mad. He just walks past the blonde and to his room, the door behind him shutting with a soft click. Jean crawls into his own hole and jacks off to the image of Eren fresh, bright and inviting in his mind.

It’s all downhill from there. He can’t be in the same space with Eren anymore without his thoughts spiralling out of control. He’s a teenager, he’s perpetually horny, and his imagination when it comes to sex is beyond impressive. Eren is extremely and happily unaware of Jean and his little dirty adventures behind closed doors. He doesn’t know Jean owns a large, blue dildo he likes to impale himself with whenever he’s got enough time to just go slow and take his time. He doesn’t have that much time these days, admittedly, but if he did, he sure as hell would imagine the other end of the dildo being Eren.

He’s partially ashamed, partially disgusted and partially exhilarated by the turn his thoughts have taken. He’s had a few crushes on a few guys here and there, the longest and the most serious one on his best friend since childhood, who he even got to kiss once, for experiment. Turns out he wasn’t as into it as Jean, not to mention not as gay as Jean, but Jean’s adaptive, he can live with that. Besides, he used the short, simple kiss as fuel for his sexual energy, which was _almost_ as good as actually doing it with the friend. Almost. Not quite.

This thing he has on Eren is different than that, though. Jean isn’t sure if he wants to get fucked by Eren or if he wants to make out, cuddle and talk about feelings or whatever with him. Then, after considering it deeply, he realises he wants all of those things. Maybe not in that exact order, but still. But because he’s an awkward loser, he keeps this newly discovered side of himself as a secret, because he doesn’t feel like getting beaten up for having gay feelings for someone who’s not gay. Jean’s 79 % sure Eren is not gay. Some days it’s 99 %. Other days, when Eren’s drunk and he forces Jean to play cards or Monopoly with him, it’s 56 %. Those times he gives Jean weird, silent looks, and he decides that those looks are _not_ because Eren’s drunk. That would just ruin those moments for him. Instead he decides Eren must have figured out what a catch Jean is.

As if.

It goes on for a while. Jean finds out it doesn’t hurt that much to be attracted to someone who’s not attracted to him as long as Eren doesn’t bring anyone over.

And then he does.

And Jean wants to kill them. Okay maybe not, but he wants them out of the apartment at least. It’s a Saturday and Jean finds out by the extra pair of shoes in the hallway that there’s someone in there. He can’t tell right away whether they’re a girl’s or a guy’s shoes, but then he hears the voices from Eren’s room and…

It’s definitely a girl.

Jean’s slightly angry and extremely disappointed. He stomps back into his room and pretends he doesn’t want to cry out of frustration. He tries to concentrate on school work as if he could fool himself into thinking that he’s not at all jealous. He’s so jealous.

Sometime later Jean hears the door of Eren’s room open, and he just needs to know who this mysterious girl is. So he peeks from behind his door carefully and catches a glimpse of the black hair and the pretty face of the girl. The dark cloud in Jean’s mind darkens even more, and it casts a shadow on all his thoughts and he’s so angry; he’s angry at Eren for living with him, he’s angry at the girl for being a _girl_ , and then he’s angry at himself for being gay. He closes the door and retreats into the safety of his four walls.

He wants to cry again but he doesn’t, because suddenly Eren’s knocking on his door and he can’t know about the deep hole Jean has dug for himself. He takes a few deep breaths and manages to open the door without making a scene.

“Hey,” Eren begins and Jean nods. “Wanna order a pizza?”

“I’m not hungry,” Jean mumbles, and it probably shows a little too well that he’s moping.

“You sure? We can order Chinese, too, if you want.” Eren’s eyes brighten suddenly and he flails his hands around. “Or, or, or, ooh, we could try that new Thai place.” Jean thinks it’s cute how he gets so excited about food. So cute it’s ridiculous. He stops frowning for a second until he remembers again that he’s angry at Eren. Well, not angry, per se, but…

“Not hungry,” he repeats himself. Eren pouts.

“Well I’m gonna order something, so don’t complain then how you’re suddenly hungry if—”

“Fine,” Jean snaps. He doesn’t mean to take it out on Eren, but does so anyway, and when Eren looks a little thrown back, he feels horrible about it. “Maybe later, okay?”

“You alright, man?” Eren asks. He sounds sincere and it makes Jean feel even worse.

“I’m fine,” he replies, avoiding looking at Eren in the eye.

“You sure?” Eren continues. Jean shrugs awkwardly.

“Who was that? Your friend, I, uh… Never seen her before.” He needs to ask. Whatever the answer it, at least he’ll know.

“Who?” Eren’s brow furrows before he seems to catch on. “Oh, she’s my sister.”

“Your…”

“Sister. Yeah.” Eren shrugs. “She’s been through a rough break up and I’ve tried to be there for her, you know.”

“She doesn’t…” Jean clears his throat, suddenly extremely nervous and excited about this new piece of information. “Look like you, at all.”

“Go ahead, ask away,” Eren says simply, and Jean feels like he’s missed something vital, because Eren’s comment doesn’t make any sense.

“What?” he asks stupidly.

“You wanna ask which one of us is adopted.”

“No, I wasn’t gonna…”

“She’s Asian and I’m Turkish. You know you wanna ask.”

“I don’t care either way,” Jean mumbles. Maybe he’s a little dense, but his first concern wasn’t that they’re of different ethnicity but that he thought Eren was having sex with her. He’s not going to say that out loud.

“Well you’re the first,” Eren says, and Jean hears the tightness in his voice. “People are curious little shits.” Jean can recognise a sore subject when he sees one, and since all the anger and whatever jealousy he felt before has melted away, he suddenly feels like ordering a pizza is a really good idea.

“Pepperoni,” he says, and Eren blinks and looks positively confused.

“What?”

“I want a pepperoni pizza.”

They order two pizzas and eat them on their living room floor. Jean doesn’t ask any questions about Eren’s sister other than ‘bad break up, huh?’ because quite frankly he’s just grateful it wasn’t what he thought it was. But there’s still the painful little problem of Eren possibly, with 67 % chance being straight. And Jean needs to know. Right now as he’s watching Eren picking some of his pepperoni off his pizza and grinning slyly as Jean swaps his hand away, he just _needs_ to know. He could do it subtly, gracefully, but…

“Are you gay or not?” He decides do dive in head first, taking a chance of diving straight into concrete and breaking his neck. He’s _that_ desperate. Eren seems unfazed as he licks pizza grease off his fingers and then wipes the rest on his hoodie.

“I dunno,” he then says, giving the tiniest shrug. “Why?”

“You don’t know?” Jean asks bluntly. “How can you _not_ know? Either you like guys or you don’t.”

“Well,” Eren sighs. He takes a sip of his cola and burps, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Maybe I just like people. Why do I have to put a label on it?” Jean snaps his mouth shut.

“So… You’re bi?” he asks after a short silence. Eren just shrugs again, but this time he looks at Jean, the expression on his face unreadable.

“I dunno,” he says, staring at Jean. “I am what I am.”

“Oh,” Jean says resignedly.

“So either you asked because you have a problem with gays, or because…” Eren’s still staring at him. He hasn’t even blinked, once, while Jean feels like his eyes are drying up in his skull and he blinks rapidly.

“Because?” he asks carefully.

“Because you thought Mikasa was my girlfriend.”

“Mikasa, your…”

“My sister, yes.” Then his lips draw into the biggest grin. “I’m sorry, you’re very transparent, Jean.”

“What does that mean?” He knows exactly what it means and the sudden rush of blood in his face tells him he’s slowly turning red on the cheeks.

“It means, blondie,” Eren leans forward and the grin turns into a smirk. “You’re very cute.” Jean squeezes his eyes shut because there’s no direction in which he could comfortably look at right now.

“Oh,” he whimpers. He hears Eren laughing and he’s sure the guy is snatching all his pepperonis off his pizza now that he isn’t looking. He doesn’t care.

Eren thinks he’s cute.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe having sex is only the second best thing he could do with Eren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEAH I KNOW I CAN'T BELIEVE MYSELF that I actually finished this. I know I should like explain a million things here, but who cares, I wrote a thing, now go read it and please like it. Please? THANK YOU you people who actually read this and motivated me to finish this, special mention to tiggeryumyum because your comment was the last straw and made me actually finally do this. THANK YOU GUYS I love you, you're amazing, I didn't seriously think anyone would even read this BUT YOU DID I love you a million times over.
> 
> So this was supposed to be horrificly explicit and graphic but WEELP as it turned out, these boys were just too innocent for that. Yes, porn happens, but also gross feelings and other boring shit ahhhhhh don't be too disappointed. I dunno, I actually might even write a fourth chapter for this where they're just grossly happy and in love and shit because sometimes you just gotta write fluffy things, ya feel me? And I never write fluff. But I dunno, it's gonna be complete for now, we'll see if I'm hit with inspiration in the future.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING THIS AND THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING ME AND THANK YOU. Here's my [tumblr](http://dollyb0y.tumblr.com), feel free to assault my inbox whenever you wanna. This has NOT been beta read because urghghgh I just wanted to post it today.

Getting from A to B sure sounds like a task simple enough, but it’s slowly getting clearer and clearer to Jean that it’s not. Eren is a straight-forward guy; he speaks his mind and takes what he wants, when he wants it, be it in the middle of the night or the first crack of the morning, but Jean’s the opposite. He doesn’t know how to get from A to B because he doesn’t even know what he’s expecting B to be. Eren seems just as nonchalant about everything as he has ever been. Jean starts to wonder that maybe Eren just finds everyone cute and it doesn’t actually _mean_ anything.

Maybe Eren doesn’t want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss Eren. It’s a horrible, suffocating thought, because as days go by, Jean’s want to kiss Eren just grows larger and larger. It’s an actual, physical _need_ , like an itch he wants to scratch but his own fingers don’t quite reach it, and he doesn’t dare to ask Eren to do it for him.

How would he go about it, anyway? ‘Hey Eren, can you please kiss me?’ At first Jean rolls his eyes at the thought until he realises that with Eren it would probably be the best way to go. Knowing Eren, he’d probably just give a lazy shrug, get up from the sofa where he’s sitting on, walk to Jean, stand slightly on his tiptoes to kiss Jean, and then walk back to the couch and continue watching a show about sloths or whatever animals are on the focus this week on nature channel.

Sloths. Jean’s thinking about sloths as he watches Eren from around and behind the corner to their kitchen. He wouldn’t call it hiding but that’s exactly what it is, as he pretends he’s not staring at Eren like he is.

Eren doesn’t mind. Jean is beginning to think he never does, about anything. With all the weird habits he’s seen Jean have by now, he doesn’t mind one of them, not one bit. Jean isn’t sure if it’s because he has no place to speak with his own weird things, or if maybe he just really, _really_ doesn’t mind.

Either way, Jean shrinks a little behind the corner that doesn’t actually hide him, at all, but hanging onto the wall makes him feel slightly better about spying on Eren like he is now.

Eren knows he’s there. He doesn’t question it. In fact, he pats the cushion next to him, not turning his gaze away from the television. There are no sloths, but there are other animals, and it doesn’t matter _which_ animals, because nature shows bore Jean mindless. But nevertheless, he lets go of the wall, his knuckles slowly turning back to their normal colour from white, and creeps to the sofa like a shy kitten trying to determine if it’s safe to approach or if maybe a better option would be to run as fast as possible, as far as possible. Or crawl under the couch. When Eren doesn’t move and doesn’t even blink an eye, his gaze focused on the screen, Jean carefully lowers himself on the sofa. The cushion sinks under his weight and he freezes momentarily as if he’s an intruder, causing disturbance to Eren, who sits unnaturally still and quiet. After Jean’s heart stops racing – it’s ridiculous, he knows, but his body doesn’t work in sync with his mind – he shifts a little, and dares to lean back on the couch, letting out a shallow sigh. Eren makes a small movement, scratching an itch on the back of his neck, but he still doesn’t move his eyes, doesn’t really acknowledge Jean’s existence right next to him.

Jean doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. Does he watch the show and keep his mouth shut until it’s over or is he allowed to talk? Eren can be grumpy about his shows, especially the ones he likes, that much has Jean learned. He seems to like the ones about animals, and he has a massive collection of weird, needless facts about different creatures, and since he knows so much, Jean knows too, because Eren _shares_. He doesn’t talk much and when he does, it’s about… sloths. Or other things Jean doesn’t care about.

Less sloths, more making out.

He clears his throat knowing extremely well it won’t do squat to make Eren react. He still has to try, though, because he’s not as socially comfortable as Eren is. He can’t sit in silence and stare at the television without the air around them getting heavy and uncomfortable. He has to break the silence somehow.

“So,” he begins, a nervous chuckle accompanying his voice as it pitches at the end. Then he hits a wall, unable to come up with anything else than another nervous chuckle that makes his voice break in the middle, turning it into a painful wheeze. Then he coughs, which finally catches Eren’s attention but only for as long as it takes him to turn his head to look at Jean and furrow his brow at the blonde. Jean knows it means ‘no talking’, so he smiles sheepishly, but Eren has already returned to the land of the television.

Jean escapes with his tail between his legs to the safety of his room. He gets to mope for about fifteen minutes, mumbling cuss words deep into his pillow, because his frustration levels are through the roof, sexual and otherwise. Eren’s given up the habit of knocking unless he’s absolutely _sure_ Jean’s doing something he doesn’t want to see. He’s not worried right now as he barges in and throws himself familiarly on Jean’s bed. It bounces slightly, the strings squeaking under the weight of their bodies, and he sighs deeply, contently. Jean refuses to emerge from the pillow wrapped around his head, and he feels Eren roll on his side, chuckling at him.

“Whatcha doing?” He’s so beautifully oblivious even though he’s become quite the expert on reading Jean and his mood swings. “Searching for the meaning of life?” Or maybe he’s messing with Jean’s head. Jean grumbles, still into the pillow, but Eren isn’t having it right now. He yanks the pillow off the blonde in one, swift movement, discarding it over the edge of the bed on the dusty floor. It’s been awhile since Jean bothered to vacuum. He pouts passive-aggressively and rolls on his back, crossing his arms over his chest, gluing his eyes on the ceiling. His pout deepens when Eren laughs next to him.

“Come on, Grumpy, what’s up?” Eren pokes him on the shoulder demandingly, _annoyingly._ The guy has a special talent of riling Jean up in a hundred and one different ways, and Jean isn’t even sure if he does it on purpose or not. Maybe Eren doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. When Jean doesn’t react the first time, Eren pokes him again, his finger sinking in between Jean’s ribs this time. Jean yelps and tries to swat his hand away, but Eren’s quicker, already retrieving with a huge grin on his face. Jean reaches his hand to smack the guy, but Eren grabs his wrist and grins impossibly wide.

“Too slow, Grumpy.”

“Stop calling me that!” Jean yanks his hand back, painfully aware of the fact that he sounds like a whiny little brat.

“Stop being so grumpy.” When Eren’s in a certain mood, he’s relentless, and he doesn’t let things go until he’s gotten a satisfactory answer or reaction, but Jean can be stubborn, too. He grunts and huffs and crosses his arms over his chest again without a word. Eren snorts and scoots a little closer. Jean’s staring at the ceiling and he can hear Eren breathing, can feel him staring at the side of his face, his arm tucked under his head. This is it. This is the moment and Jean doesn’t feel brave enough to turn to face Eren. He can’t do it; now that he has Eren in his bed and he’s presented with this perfect opportunity he’s waited for a long, long time, he simply can’t do it.

But as it turns out, Eren is even better at reading him than he ever thought possible.

“Hey, nerd,” Eren says and it breaks the tension because it’s annoying and Jean turns to look at him with his eyes narrowed and lips in a pout, but Eren’s face is so much softer than he excepted, and it throws him off guard. It makes him nervous, but he can’t look away now, not when Eren stares at him like he does, his gaze intense yet gentle, and Jean realises something. It makes him feel stupid but he realises that Eren is nervous, too. He hides it better than Jean, but the way his lower lip is caught between his teeth and his eyes slightly too wide, it’s impossible _not_ to see it. Not from this close, anyway.

Jean tries to find something to say, something that doesn’t involve Eren’s mouth or his lips or his eyes or just basically anything that doesn’t involve Eren.

“Sloths,” he says.

He actually says it out loud, although for a brief, fleeing moment he’s sure he didn’t. Or so he hopes.

Jean’s arms still crossed over his chest and his neck starting to hurt, Eren makes one final scoot closer and he kisses Jean.

There are two ways for it to end, but Jean doesn’t want either of them; he doesn’t want it to end.

Eren’s lips are incredibly soft, velvety even, and they feel like they know what they’re doing. Eren’s hand runs across Jean’s chest, up to his neck and to the side of his face, where it stays, the fingertips stroking the hair behind his ear.

Jean’s arms come apart and they fall on his sides uselessly, his fingers finding the hem of his t-shirt to fiddle with nervously.

The kiss seems to last for an eternity but when it ends, it ends way too soon, and Jean gives himself the permission to act brave, to act spontaneously just this once. He rolls on his side before Eren has had time to draw in a breath, and he chases after his lips. Eren complies, his mouth responsive and eager when Jean steals his breath away. His hand finds a way to Eren’s waist, his fingers digging into the way too heavy hoodie he’s wearing. As he pulls himself closer, they mouths never breaking contact, Eren’s hand slides to the back of his head, blunt fingernails scraping through the short hair.

Jean, driven by this new-found courage and lust, is the one to deepen the kiss. He opens his mouth a little, Eren mimicking his actions and he slides his tongue in, Eren meeting him halfway.

It drives him almost crazy. Eren tastes sweet, there’s a hint of something sugary, and it makes Jean chase after it, after the taste. He sucks Eren’s tongue in his mouth, bites his lower lip, and hums into his mouth, desperate for _more_.

It’s only then he realises he’s humping against Eren like a dog in heat, and it would be so embarrassing if Eren wasn’t humping right back. Jean can feel his clothed dick press against the hollow of his hip, Eren’s movements just as desperate and erratic as his.

But when they pull apart to breathe, to assess the situation, Jean’s eyes find Eren’s and he realises he has no clue how to do this, whatever _this_ is. There are about a dozen different questions popping up all at once like mushrooms after a rain, and they only begin to scrape the surface of the confusion in Jean.

“You wanna stop?” Eren murmurs, and Jean doesn’t doubt Eren’s seen the hesitation and nervousness clear in his face. He’s secretly relieved Eren would ask, if only to give him time to think.

“No,” he answers honestly, and he really doesn’t. He wants to keep making out; he wants to learn Eren’s body with his hands by heart, and most of all, he wants Eren to want the same things. “I’ve just, I’m… I’ve never…”

“You’re a virgin?” Eren asks, in a very Eren kind of way. He doesn’t sound surprised, at all, which stings Jean more than it should. He’s not _that_ obvious, is he?

“Yeah…” he mumbles, avoiding Eren’s gaze awkwardly, concentrating on the little hole in his hoodie, near the seam of the arm. He’s tempted to try if he could fit his finger through it.

“It’s fine,” Eren says, matter-of-factly, and he shrugs quickly. “Like, if you don’t wanna do anything—”

“I kinda like you,” Jean mumbles, the last of his courage draining and then he shrinks, his cheeks feeling hot as Eren stares at him, his response taking way too long for what’s comfortable for Jean. “I—I mean, I just…”

“Thanks,” Eren blurts.

“Thanks?”

“I mean, I like you too.”

“ _Thanks_ ,” Jean huffs, but before he can roll away from Eren, his face hot with embarrassment, Eren laughs and pulls him into a clumsy hug. His face buried against Jean’s neck, hand clutching his t-shirt on his back, he chuckles.

“Did you think I just make out with everyone?” he mutters against Jean’s neck, his breath hot, making the hair on the back of Jean’s neck stand up.

“I dunno,” Jean mutters back, his own face squished between Eren and the bed. It’s almost uncomfortable, but at least he doesn’t have to stand Eren’s gaze. Eren snorts and shakes his head.

“You’re so cute,” he whispers, his lips suddenly on Jean’s neck, making the taller boy shiver involuntarily. Eren kisses him tentatively, just below his jaw, and Jean’s eyes slide shut at the feeling. He tilts his head when Eren’s kisses wander, and his own hand curls into the front of Eren’s hoodie.

Eren tries his luck with his teeth, nipping the skin lightly, and Jean jumps about five feet in the air. Or, so it feels like anyway, and he gasps.

“Sorry,” Eren kisses his neck softly. “Too much?”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Jean whimpers, his voice betraying just _how_ fine. He hears Eren chuckling, the sound revealing how very pleased he is with himself, but Jean doesn’t have much time to grumble, because Eren kisses his neck again, only this time his mouth opens against the skin, and he pulls it slightly between his lips.

Jean could let him do that, only that, for the next fifteen minutes, and he’d be happier than ever before. He sighs, the sound trembling as it emits, and Eren sucks the skin harder.

Jean’s never had hickeys before, but he doesn’t tell that to Eren. Instead he lets the guy work his magic, still uselessly hanging onto his hoodie. He’s unsure what to do with his hands, while Eren’s runs down his back and slips under his t-shirt coyly.

“You wanna take this off?” he murmurs against Jean’s neck, his fingers rubbing the bare skin under the fabric. He has nice, warm hands.

“Only if you take yours first,” Jean answers, his voice a little too quiet, a little too strained. He expects Eren to tease him about it, to make a scene, but instead he pulls away and sits up. Within seconds the hoodie lands on the floor by the bed, Eren blowing the messy hair off his eyes, and Jean’s not sure whether it’s appropriate to stare or if he should look away.

So he stares, up at Eren, who’s looking down at him. There’s a small smile, hidden partially by his teeth pulling his lower lip into his mouth.

Nervousness.

Jean cranks himself up, too, and he grabs the hem of his shirt with both of his hands, but he hesitates. He looks like a skinny teenager compared to Eren, which he _is_ , but Eren doesn’t look like a kid who just hit puberty yesterday. Jean does, still, and he can feel the redness of his face spreading down to his neck and chest.

“But don’t laugh, okay?” He knows what Eren’s going to say before he says it.

“Why would I laugh?”

“I dunno,” Jean mumbles. “Because you’re super hot and I’m not.” _Then_ Eren laughs, but it’s aimed at himself more than at Jean.

“Oh shut up,” Eren snorts, and he scoots closer before Jean can really argue with that. “You’re super cute.” His hands go around Jean’s waist, and they gently urge the taller guy to lean closer, to meet Eren’s lips in another kiss.

Jean does, with the smallest sigh; he lets Eren take the lead and kiss him. It feels comfortable, more so now, as they slowly learn each other off.

It could be really romantic if Jean’s hormones weren’t going into overdrive; if he wasn’t so goddamn horny. Eren’s mouth is like a drug; the more he gets to taste it, the more he wants it. He tilts his head, tries another angle, bites the guy, his tongue, just to see how he reacts, and with a soft groan he’s suddenly pinned on his back on the bed, Eren on top of him, in between his legs.

Eren is much, _much_ stronger than what he looks like, and it manages to turn Jean on all the more. They never break the kiss, Eren’s skilful hands now under Jean’s shirt, and they grope him shamelessly. That is, what there is to grope. For a moment Jean wonders whether Eren’s trying to find boobs under his shirt, but then he grinds against Jean, and Jean forgets everything else except his throbbing dick.

And Eren’s dick. Which is, at the moment, pressing against his, and he automatically wraps his legs around Eren’s hips, forcing him closer. His hands are in Eren’s hair, still a little shy and unsure, but when Eren’s hips buck against him again, his cock _painfully_ contained in his jeans, his fingers pull on the strands. Eren likes it, judging by the way he moans in Jean’s mouth.

“Your shirt,” he mumbles, pulling away enough to unwrap Jean from around himself, and to pull the shirt over Jean’s head. Jean doesn’t resist, not even when Eren’s eyes glide on his exposed skin the second the fabric is off of him, his mouth slightly open like he’s forgotten how to function. He licks his lips so quickly Jean doesn’t almost notice it.

There’s a clear contrast between their bodies, their skins; between the golden brown of Eren and the pale, pinkish white of Jean. There’s a thick trail of dark hair running under Eren’s bellybutton and into his jeans, which are, Jean notes with an extra beat of his heart, strained on the front like the buttons might pop open any second. He’s got hair on his chest, too, while Jean is hairless and smooth from neck to toes, except for the light trail of hair peeking out just below the waistband of his boxers.

Eren’s got muscle. Jean knew that already, but he never saw it this close. Eren’s not hunky or anything like that, but he’s got wide shoulders, his arms nicely toned up along with his stomach. Jean’s having vivid images of Eren pumping the iron, getting all ripped up, and his cock responds by twitching in his jeans, his breath coming out as a short pant. He can’t help but think about all those porn magazines, all those positions in which the guys in them fuck, and his heart is so close to bursting out of his chest.

Eren’s fingering the zipper of Jean’s jeans carefully, and his face screams for a permission to move forward.

This is everything Jean has ever wanted (well, everything he has wanted at least for the past few months), and it makes him so nervous his mouth runs dry, while his hands start sweating. He forgets everything he’s seen in porn movies; all the fake confidence he’s tried to build up, thinking he’d know exactly what to do in a situation like this. He nods, holding his breath. He trusts Eren, trusts that the guy knows what’s he’s doing, because Jean sure as hell doesn’t. It’s so hard to hold Eren’s gaze but he can’t look away, not even when Eren palms him through the denim, giving him a slight idea of what’s in store. He moans voicelessly.

Eren unbuttons his jeans, and slides the zipper open. Jean has to concentrate on his breathing as he follows Eren’s hands with his eyes. He tugs the waist lower slightly, just enough for Jean to adjust his dick out of the tightest spot.

“You’re pretty,” Eren murmurs, and then Jean notices the hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I really like your skin.” It leaves Jean dumbstruck as he digs into his brain trying to come up with an equally good compliment.

He finds nothing, and instead bites his lip, both his hands clenching into the sheets.

Eren doesn’t mind his silence, his other hand running up the taller guy’s stomach. It makes it up to Jean’s chest, and then back down, the skin underneath shivering. Jean wants to close his eyes, wants to fall back on the bed and let Eren do whatever he wants to, but he can’t.

“Can I suck you off?” The question comes in the form of a whisper, as if Eren’s afraid to quake the silence around them. Jean nods, suddenly completely aware of the fact he hasn’t showered all day and oh god, what if Eren finds him repulsive, what if he smells funny down there, what if—

Eren kisses his stomach lightly, and Jean twitches, the dark hair brushing against his skin, tickling him. He can barely hold back the stupid giggle that threatens to leave his lips, but he does, by slapping his hand over his mouth. Eren looks up at him, hovering right over the bulge still hidden by his boxers, and he grins.

He is extremely good at getting Jean flustered, and Jean’s pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose. He licks his lips and kisses the wet tip of Jean’s cock through the thin fabric.

Jean’s teeth sink in his knuckles, the other hand so tightly clenched in the sheets the knuckles on that one start turning white.

Eren takes it slow, just kissing his way down the length, but the warmth of his breath and knowing what’s going to happen are enough to have Jean squirming and biting his knuckles even harder. He even dares to remove his hand from the sheets and carefully run it through Eren’s thick hair. Eren sighs at the touch, mouthing his way up back to the tip, where he plants another kiss. He then sits up slightly, hooking his fingers under the waistband of the jeans, easing them down slowly. Jean pushes his hips up from the bed, and Eren pulls the jeans all the way to his ankles. Jean snorts unwillingly when he has trouble getting them past his feet, and his whole face scrunches up in annoyance and frustration.

But they finally come off and they fly on the floor to accompany the other clothes. Jean’s painfully self-aware as Eren then runs his hands up his bare, slender thighs, stopping just below where the underwear starts. He’s looking down at Jean again, with the same plea in his eyes as before.

“I’ve never done this before,” Jean spits out the jumble of words from behind the hand that’s still resting against his lips. He vaguely remembers saying it already, but the closer they get to actually _doing_ anything, the more nervous he grows. It’s manifesting itself now with this constant tightness in his gut, next to the exploding arousal, and he’s not sure which one is louder.

“You wanna stop?” Eren asks without hesitation. Jean shakes his head furiously.

“ _No_.” He contemplates for a moment, the whole time Eren looking at him with an awaiting expression. “I’m just nervous.”

“Yeah, me too,” Eren admits with a telling smile. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, you know.”

“Gross,” Jean smirks, poking his tongue out teasingly, and he bursts into laughter when Eren grabs his sides and tickles him. They wrestle for a few moments, Jean laughing like a hyena while trying to fight Eren off, and then the next moment they’re making out again, Eren’s arms wrapped under and around Jean, Jean’s hands in Eren’s hair. He likes the feel of it, the softness, the way it runs through his fingers so effortlessly. They kiss slowly, languidly, everything outside the moment and the bed meaningless or non-existent.

When Eren once again pulls away, it’s only for as long as it takes to jump out of the bed, peel off his own jeans, and then jump back on the bed. He helps Jean out of his boxers, the guy trying _hard_ not to think about the fact he’s now butt naked in front of his roommate.

His _hot_ roommate, who wants him. The thought makes him feel better, and fortunately he doesn’t have time to think further because Eren’s positioning himself between his legs now, on his stomach, and he’s kissing the hollow of Jean’s hip, his cheek brushing against the hard cock. He doesn’t pay any attention to it, not yet, and Jean fights the urge to grab Eren’s hair and guide his mouth where he wants it.

Eren just kisses him slowly, nips the skin here and there, taking his time until Jean’s squirming against his touch. Eren looks up at him from behind his dark lashes, his pupils blown wide with lust. He doesn’t say anything, but his face talks louder than words, and then those beautiful, soft lips wrap around the head of Jean’s cock and Jean… He almost comes at the sight of Eren hollowing his cheeks as he slides Jean in his mouth; in his hot, wet, velvety mouth with a tongue that seems to know a trick or two.

It feels _incredible_. It’s so much better than Jean could have ever imagined, and he has imagined this moment _many_ times. He worries just watching Eren suck him is going to make him shoot his load, so he lets his head fall back on the bed, his eyes staring the ceiling without really seeing it. Eren swallows him down eagerly as far as he can, which is impressively far for a guy who’s getting his first blowjob ever, and when Eren pulls up, sucking as he goes, moving _slowly_ over the hot length… Jean holds his breath around an oncoming moan, and when Eren’s mouth pops off of him, the moan escapes, loud and clear. His muscles tense up on their own accord before they relax again.

“Feel good?” Eren murmurs, his hand lazily stroking the dick.

“Uh-huh,” Jean gurgles out. He doesn’t trust his voice nowhere near enough to use actual words, but Eren gets the gist of it. He lets out either a heavy sigh or a breathy chuckle, Jean can’t concentrate enough to tell, and suddenly his dick is in Eren’s mouth again. He gasps at the feeling, his gut tightening alarmingly, and he tries to distract himself by concentrating on anything except Eren’s amazing mouth. He wants to make the feeling last, so he thinks about the essays he needs to write, he thinks about the goddamn sloths, he thinks about Eren, and he thinks about Eren’s cock and that’s enough.

He has about a second and a half to moan out his warnings and then he comes, Eren’s lips still on him. He pulls back, though, most of the cum ending on Jean’s stomach and the sheets.

“How about a heads up next time?” Eren says, his voice muffled as he uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth.

“Sorry,” Jean mumbles, his eyes closed, because he doesn’t have the strength to open them just yet. He’s in absolute bliss, and the fact that this is the second time his orgasm has snuck up on him so suddenly while thinking of Eren isn’t lost on him. He couldn’t care less.

Eren pushes himself out of the bed, the weight on the bed shifting momentarily, and Jean hears soft rustling, and then Eren’s suddenly wiping the mess off of his stomach with the tissues on his bedside table. Jean opens his eyes lazily, and Eren smiles down at him, all flustered. Jean hopes his smile is enough to match that of Eren’s.

Eren throws the tissues in the trashcan under Jean’s desk, and then he leaps to Jean, his weight knocking the air out of Jean, and Eren pulls him in an awkward embrace. Jean lets him nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck, although he does so with an irritated huff, and when Eren suddenly pushes his arms under his back and rolls them over, he yelps a little louder than he meant to.

“You’re crazy,” he mumbles, Eren warm like a hot-water bottle under him. His head rested against Eren’s shoulder, he feels the guy’s chest rise and fall under him, and feels his heartbeat faintly in the safety of his ribcage. It’s fast, nervous, while Jean’s has calmed down.

“Takes one to know another,” Eren responds stupidly, his hands running up and down Jean’s bare back. The slight dampness of his hands tells a story of their own about Eren’s nervousness. His erection presses against Jean’s hip, and that’s what manages to get his heart beating faster again. He knows what he wants, but he’s absolutely terrified of saying it out loud, so he waits for Eren to say it.

They end up spending several minutes in silence. Jean figures Eren’s waiting the same thing he is; the other one to speak up. His hands are still running up and down Jean’s back, and he bucks his hips up against Jean every now and then, and no matter how subtle he thinks he is, he really isn’t.

Because Jean can’t say it out loud, he figures he doesn’t have to. He pushes himself up, Eren’s hands stopping their wandering. His eyes find Jean’s, and for a moment they just stare at each other, Jean amazed by just how gorgeous Eren really is, how gorgeously flustered and nervous and it’s a bit of a turn on, really. Okay, it’s a _huge_ turn on. He gnaws on his lower lip until he finds the courage he lost somewhere along the road, and dips down to kiss Eren. It seems to calm something down in Eren, like it does in Jean, as he sighs contently, his hands reanimating again. They slide down the curve of Jean’s back to his ass, where they cup it gently, the fingers sinking in the flesh a little harder when Jean hums into the kiss approvingly. Eren’s hips jerk up again, this time with zero subtlety. Jean sucks the lower lip of Eren in his mouth, holding onto it with his teeth softly, before he lets it slip out. He pushes up and backs off awkwardly down Eren’s body, the guy’s hands hanging in the air uselessly after they leave Jean’s body, before flopping onto the bed.

“I’ve never done this before, so…” Jean’s voice trails off before he’s gotten half of the sentence out, but Eren just nods, and he flashes a warm smile.

“Yeah.” He looks sympathetic, in a way only he could, and Jean slides his fingers under the waistband of Eren’s boxers and pulls them lower expectantly. There’s a telling wet spot on them, and as he pulls them down, Eren’s cock bounces eagerly out of them, against his stomach. It’s impressive just how incredibly hard he is; Jean’s surprised he’s been able to compose himself all this time.

It’s the first cock Jean has seen this up close. It seems so much _bigger_ than they do on screen, and he has no idea where he’s supposed to fit all of it. He swallows at the thought of it, but it also makes his mouth water slightly. He _needs_ to know what Eren tastes like, what his dick will feel like in his mouth, in his… The thought makes his pulse pick up its pace.

Then he realises that there’s a real possibility he is going to get _laid_. Damn. He licks his lips, wrapping his long fingers around the dick. Eren twitches at his touch, his breath getting stuck in his throat. It feels, well, _different_ , but at the same time, this one Jean knows _how_ to do. It’s not that different than jerking himself off. In fact, he’s pretty good at that, so with a sly grin he lets his hand slide down, his grip tight but not tight enough to make Eren’s eyes roll in the back of his head just yet.

He gets Eren’s motor running the same way he always does with himself; he starts slow, teasingly, making sure there isn’t a place in Eren’s body where he doesn’t get tingles when Jean’s skilful hand massages the head and then the whole length. Eren has his legs straightened on the bed, and his toes curl a bit when Jean hands slides to the base.

He licks his lips one more time, making sure there’s enough saliva in his mouth, and he scoots lower, bringing the hot head of the cock to his lips. He lets them roll over it lazily, Eren’s whole body tensing when Jean’s mouth makes contact with him, the lips opening to let the head slide in his awaiting mouth.

It doesn’t taste that bad. It doesn’t taste much of anything, actually, not as it slides deeper, his mouth fuller than ever before. It’s so _hot_ , and Jean can feel it pulsating against his tongue. He tries to mimic the actions of the porn stars that have been burned on his retinas for life, but with so much meat in his mouth, he has no idea where to stuff the rest of it, and there’s a _lot_ of it. So it feels like, anyway. His gag reflex is immediate when the cock is deep enough, but he holds it back like a champion, and letting his hand work the rest of it, he sucks his way up. He sucks the head with wet, flush lips, letting his tongue massage it.

He doesn’t need to see Eren’s face to know he’s hit a spot. His strained moans and the way his stomach tenses under his dark skin are of enough indication. Jean feels extremely proud of himself, and he uses the moment to take Eren a little deeper, then suck up again, his hand steadily jerking on the rest. He sucks the head, pokes the tip of his tongue into the slit, and twirls it over the head. He dips lower and pushes the dick against the inside of his cheek, grinning to himself when Eren awards him with low moan.

“Oh god,” he mumbles, his shaking hand finding Jean’s face, sliding into his hair. “Wait, wait, I’m, I’m so close.” Jean slides the wet dick out of his mouth to swallow.

“Um,” he starts hesitantly. Eren looks down at him, his cheeks tinted with pink hue, a string of saliva on his lower lip. “D’you wanna—”

“Yes,” Eren blurts out immediately.

“Oh.”

“I mean if—”

“—have sex?” Jean vomits the words out, and Eren’s eyes widen and he blinks them quickly. Just as Jean is about to sink to the core of the Earth, Eren’s lips draw into the widest grin, his eyes smiling in time with it.

“Yes.” And for a moment they just smile at each other, a little nervously, a little embarrassedly, and then Eren sits up and scoots Jean in for a kiss. His hands in Jean’s hair, he holds the guy’s head gently, although his kisses are anything _but_. They’re hungry and sloppy and they alone make Jean’s cock harden.

They stop the making out only for as long as it takes Eren to kick off his boxers completely, and then they’re at it again, lying on top of each other and then next to each other. It’s perfect, it’s everything Jean imagined it would be, and for a while they just concentrate on the kissing, wrapped around each other’s naked bodies which are still new and exciting to them. Both their hands are enthusiastic about groping each other; both their hands wander, squeeze, stroke, and rub whatever they can reach, and at some point a weird thought hits Jean.

Eren could be the best thing to ever have happened to him.

It’s a moment of complete clarity. He realises he really likes Eren. Not only because they’re naked and horny now and because Eren is way out of his league, but because Eren lets him be who he is without trying to change him, and because somehow being around Eren makes everything better.

The kisses turn slower, gentler, until it’s just the tips of their noses resting against each other, breaths mingling together, and Eren’s arm safely around his waist. His other arm in between them, the tips of his fingers stroke Jean’s chin, barely touching the skin.

“I really like you,” Jean murmurs. His eyes have fallen shut, and he knows Eren’s examining him, his face so close to his he can almost hear the flutter of Eren’s eyelashes.

“And I like you,” Eren murmurs back, just as tenderly. He rubs his nose against Jean’s. “Though Mikasa warned me not to get involved with my roomie.” Jean snorts, pinching Eren where his hand’s resting against his stomach.

“Too late.”

“Yeah, not like I was gonna listen to her anyway.” Jean smiles, and Eren steals the smile away by kissing him. Then he makes Jean’s cock twitch by asking, his voice low and husky, “So, uh, you got any lube?”

“Nightstand,” Jean says simply, opening his eyes finally when he feels Eren roll to the edge of the bed. He reaches out for the drawer, pulls it open with force and rummages through it until he finds what he’s looking for.

“There’re, uh, condoms, too,” Jean mumbles awkwardly. He stares at Eren’s back, the skin inviting and smooth and Jean is having trouble breathing just imagining what’s about to happen. He hopes Eren’s better at this than he is.

He rolls back to Jean victoriously with the lube and a condom.

“So, top or bottom?” he asks as nonchalantly as ever, dropping the lube on the bed in between them. Jean blinks at the question, under the assumption that the answer is obvious.

“…bottom?” he asks rather than answers, and Eren smiles.

“Alright,” he nods. “So you’ve never been with anyone? Like, even girls?”

“No,” Jean huffs, his face involuntarily scrunching up. “I’ve never been into girls.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Eren mouths, his eyebrows rising slightly. He doesn’t say anything else, though, the look on Jean’s face enough to keep him quiet. Instead he kisses Jean like it’s the first time he does, and Jean melts under his care.

Eren’s hand starts to roam, running down Jean’s back as they press their bodies closer, and it cups his ass tentatively. When Jean gives him the silent permission by biting his lip, it slides between his ass cheeks, a finger running over his entrance.

It sends shivers down Jean’s spine and he chokes down a moan, until the finger makes a few circles, and Eren’s erection presses harder against him.

He lets out the moan, and it fuels the fire in Eren, the hand grabbing his ass with new courage. Jean winds his fingers around both their erections and squeezes them, Eren desperately bucking against his grip. He doesn’t _mean_ to seem desperate, but it’s kind of starting to hurt.

He breaks away from Jean, keeping close enough for Jean to be able to lazily stroke them both, and he grabs the lube from the sheets. Popping it open, he squeezes it on his finger which makes Jean realise this isn’t a first time for Eren. There’s a twist of jealousy in his guts, which is ridiculous, he knows, but the way Eren looks at him before he proceeds, his face once again asking silently for a permission, he forgets the jealousy.

Besides, at least Eren _knows_ what he’s doing.

“Is this position okay?” Eren murmurs, his voice husky and breathless. Jean just nods, his hand, although barely moving, still stroking them both. He tries not to feel nervous, but when Eren reaches behind him, the slick hand sliding between his ass cheeks familiarly, he’s suddenly extremely self-aware. Eren looks at him with this gentleness in his eyes, and like all the times before, even now he can read Jean like everything was written out in the open.

“This alright?” he whispers, the air heavy with anticipation around them. His hand doesn’t move, and Jean feels stupid for being so nervous. This is what he wants, right? So why is he so nervous, then?

He voices his concerns out loud, unable to meet Eren’s eyes as he does. He trusts the guy, sure, but that doesn’t mean Eren wouldn’t think he’s overreacting or being overly weird about this.

“Hey,” Eren says, his voice now stern. “You know it’s perfectly normal to be nervous, right? And we don’t have to do anything if you don’t wanna.”

“It’s not that,” Jean groans. “I’m just, I don’t, I don’t want this to be some stupid casual sex thing or something.”

“We live together, baby,” Eren grins. “Kinda makes this hard to be just a casual thing.”

“ _Still_ ,” Jean argues. Eren chuckles at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t _do_ casual sex. I don’t, uh, really _do_ sex, at all, either…”

“Really?” Jean asks, surprised, but quite honestly it makes him feel a lot better about this. Here he was thinking Eren’s the kind to have a mile long queue behind his bedroom door. I mean how could he not, he’s so goddamn _perfect_ , everyone must be head over heels for him.

“Yeah,” Eren sighs, but he doesn’t sound like he exactly regrets it. “I just, I don’t like it, unless it’s with… with someone I like.”

Jean doesn’t reply, he doesn’t even let Eren continue, because this is enough for him. He kisses the guy, done with doubts.

Jean gives them both a few, good strokes, and when Eren’s hand, still slick with lube, reaches between his ass cheeks once again, Jean doesn’t stop to think and doesn’t let those nasty doubts to take over again.

One, slicked finger finds its way to his entrance and it starts pushing inside carefully. Jean holds his breath unconsciously, telling himself to relax at the same time as Eren whispers it to him. He forces himself to breathe, and the finger pushes inside, sliding halfway in.

“This alright?” Eren murmurs against Jean’s mouth. He nods, and the finger slides further in. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels different. It’s way more exciting than his own fingers, but not as sure and not as familiar with his body as his own.

Eren fingers him, every now and then nipping Jean’s flushed lips, just to reassure him. Jean strokes them both, massages the head of their cocks with slow, circular motions, his eyes closed. When Eren asks almost inaudibly for a permission to insert another finger, Jean just nods. This time it stings, slightly, but Jean knows how to relax around the sensation. Eren rubs their noses together, kisses his lips softly, whispers sweet nothings to him, and Jean lets himself drown in the moment.

By the third finger he twitches, gasping slightly, and Eren stops to kiss him, to ask him if he’s okay. Jean might’ve as well forgotten how to speak, because he can’t find any words to express just _how_ okay he is. He nods quickly, and kisses Eren back when the guy captures his lips once again. Everything, all of it, it’s so _overwhelming_ Jean feels like imploding, in the most perfect way if there is such. The three fingers push in and they slide out, and not too long and Jean’s anticipating them, subtly pushing back to meet them. His hand is now still, the grip on their cocks loose, and he does notice the way Eren’s still moving his hips against his hand.

“I think I’m good to go,” he mumbles in between wet kisses. He opens his eyes when Eren pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets quickly.

“So, uh, how do you wanna do this?” Eren asks, running his hand up Jean’s side. His eyes are so dark and bright at the same time, so sharp and so keen.

“Like, uh—”

“Like, you know, in what position.” The question comes out of Eren so naturally.

“ _Oh_.” Jean bites his lip, all those images from all those magazines flashing in his mind. They all seem too much, and he shrinks, shrugging slightly. “Like… you just, um, on top of me, y’know.”

“Yeah, I like that,” Eren murmurs, his mouth tugging into a small smile. He plants a quick kiss on the corner of Jean’s mouth and sits up, Jean rolling awkwardly on his back. Eren grabs the lube and the condom from where they’re lying, and Jean follows him closely, trying not to get self-conscious again. But then again, he’s lying naked with his cock hard for everyone (read: Eren) to see, it’s pretty hard _not_ to feel self-conscious. Eren moves in between his legs and gently pushes them apart, and Jean obeys. He feels like a one man show like this, but then Eren smiles at him, massaging his other leg with his free hand, and it has a way of calming him down. Eren’s _presence_ has a way of calming him down, although right now, it’s also the source of his nervousness.

Too many thoughts, he realises. Unnecessary, unneeded thoughts that try to ruin this for him.

“You alright?” Eren murmurs, like he’s able to read Jean’s thoughts. His fingers trace Jean’s skin and it makes him shiver, and he forces the thoughts under a lid and nods.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Just nervous.”

“I know,” Eren says simply. It’s comforting, the way nothing seems to faze him. “Just lemme know if, um, you know. You want me to… do something differently, or…”

“Uh-huh,” Jean nods quickly. He’s got his hand covering his mouth again, his teeth nipping the skin on his knuckles. Eren lets him, probably figuring it’s better than to have Jean fidgeting around nervously. He rips the condom foil open, Jean’s keen eyes on the ceremony the whole time, even when Eren gives himself a few, stern strokes, and then rolls the rubber over his dick. When he’s done spreading the lube, he gives Jean a look, _the_ look, and Jean instinctively spreads his legs more; invitingly. Eren scoots closer, his lip now between his teeth, and he emits an airy chuckle.

Nervousness. It makes Jean feel better about himself and his own shaky nerves.

Eren leans over him, planting his hand firmly on the bed, the other grabbing his own dick.

“Alright?” he says, looking at Jean, and the guy just nods again. Eren’s attention shifts to his hand in between them, and he guides himself against Jean’s entrance. Jean doesn’t even realise his other hand is fisted in the sheets, but he _does_ notice the pressure of Eren’s cock pushing against him. He takes a deep breath from between his teeth and relaxes, and the blunt head makes it past the tight ring.

Eren pushes in and Jean can’t stop the whiny moan, no matter how embarrassed it makes him. Eren looks concerned though, and he lowers himself on his forearms, close enough to kiss Jean.

“You okay?” he murmurs almost frantically, but Jean only nods. He can tolerate the pain, it’s the other sensations that make him almost burst out of his skin.

He wraps his long legs around Eren’s hips, urging him closer. Eren doesn’t ask questions, just pushes slowly deeper, and Jean’s voice wavers as he whines again. When Eren bottoms out, Jean’s arms fly around him, and he pulls the guy close, closer, pulls him into a passionate kiss.

This is so, _so_ much better than he could’ve ever imagined. This kind of closeness, the way Eren’s chest heaves against his, his breathing loud in the air surrounding them, the way his cock pulsates deep inside of Jean… He doesn’t want to say it, but he really, really just wants Eren to fuck him hard right about now. He wants to see Eren unravel, wants to hear the sounds the guy makes when he feels so good he can’t put it into words.

And then he wants to cuddle with Eren and make out and talk about feelings.

He’s delirious with lust and want and an actual, physical _need_. It hurts, like he knew it would, but it hurts so _good_ , he knows it’ll pass soon enough, he’s fucked himself enough times with his dildos to know how good it can get. But never had he ever imagined it would feel _this_ good to be close to another human being; to be this close to _Eren_. It’s like everything he feels is intensified by a thousand right now, like Eren has the ability to make even this feel so much better just by being him.

“You okay?” Eren’s words sound so loud in his ears even though they’re mere whispers, and they betray how out of breath he is, and Jean is overwhelmed by his sense of protectiveness and gentleness but also…

“Yeah,” he murmurs, their lips meeting into yet another kiss, and Jean swears, he could never stop kissing Eren and he’d die as a happy man. “You don’t have to ask, okay?”

“Okay,” Eren whispers against the lips that will haunt him in his most delicious dreams. “Is it okay if I move?”

“Yes,” Jean answers honestly. It stings when Eren pulls out slowly, it makes Jean tense but when Eren’s about to stop, about to murmur yet another series of sweet, comforting nothings, Jean squeezes the guy with his legs, urges him to move. So Eren does, he pulls out halfway out and slides back in, his eyes fluttering closed and his mouth opening around a silent _ah_. Jean feels Eren’s breath on his skin, feels the way his muscles tense and shiver, feels how _good_ it feels for Eren.

It feels good for Jean, too. There’s a stupid little thought under everything, the thought of ‘I’m getting laid’, and as he watches Eren’s face from this close, so close that his forehead pressed against Jean’s, Jean can only see both his eyes as one, it stirs up more emotions than just plain having sex ever could.

He really, _really_ fucking likes Eren, and he would rather do this with just Eren a million times over than with anyone else.

Eren has a calm pace, a steady rhythm in which he moves his hips, not sliding too far out, only keeping the movement to minimal. Jean appreciates the gentleness, but as the pain eases out, there’s another craving inside of him.

After all, deep inside he’s just a horny little teenager who can’t wait for this to be over so he can do it again, so he can try all these things and positions with Eren he’s ever tried only in his wildest, dirtiest dreams.

“Faster,” he mumbles, licking Eren’s lips, pulling the lower one between his teeth softly. Eren doesn’t ask, he’s quick to catch on. His head drops in the crook of Jean’s neck, where he kisses the skin, kisses his way up to Jean’s ear, and he pulls his cock out almost completely, and then pushes in with a little more force.

Jean’s nails sink in Eren’s back. He moans, and when Eren reacts to his sounds by speeding up, by biting his neck lightly, Jean moans again. Louder this time.

Eren seems to like it. His hips pick up on the pace, Jean’s feet hanging in the air now, and with every thrust, his voice wavers and pitches in the end. He can’t hear himself, but he can hear Eren’s panting hot and heavy against his neck, he can hear every grunt and stifled groan he lets out, and he can hear the slapping of their skins together. Somehow it seems to be the loudest thing in the room, and my _god_ it turns Jean on. He can feel Eren sliding in and out of him like his cock was made for his ass, his perfect, thick cock, and Jean doesn’t remember or doesn’t care why he was nervous in the first place. He’s whining into the humid air, his short nails drawing long, red lines in Eren’s skin but neither of them cares. Eren’s skin is slick with sweat, he tastes like sweat where Jean sinks his teeth in his shoulder, and when he does, Eren moans loudly in his ear.

He seems to like that one, too.

“This alright?” Eren’s voice comes in short spurts, his voice strained and breathless.

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Jean moans in response. “Feels good, feels so good, so good—” He doesn’t know where the words or the sounds come from, but somewhere in the back, in the furthest corner of his mind, he realises he’s _loud_. Not that he really cares.

“You feel so good,” Eren murmurs, and it makes Jean’s cock twitch in between them. “You’re so good, you’re so good…”

“Yes, yes,” Jean whines, the wet, slapping sounds getting louder as Eren’s pace picks up, his hips hitting Jean’s ass with enough force to move Jean against the sheets. A time or two his cock slips out and it takes him a split second to guide himself back in. Jean dares to peel his fingers off Eren’s bruised back, only to grab his ass, his delicious, toned ass.

“Can I take you from behind?” Eren asks, his voice husky, and Jean nods hastily. He would let Eren take him in any position he wanted to, there’s no question about it. Eren stops and pulls out of Jean, who winces, but he quickly rolls on his stomach after he’s gotten his legs from around Eren. Eren presses against him, his chest against Jean’s back, and the blonde turns his head to kiss the guy above him. They don’t need to say anything at this point, anything else than ‘my god this feels good’, anyway.

Jean shifts his legs a little wider and pushes his ass slightly in the air as Eren positions himself again against the blonde’s entrance. He slides in effortlessly, following excitedly as he sinks in Jean’s perfect, round, cute little ass. Supporting himself on his hands, he watches himself for a moment, watches his cock sliding in and out of Jean, watches as Jean pushes himself up a little more, impatiently trying to make Eren fuck him harder.

He’s not confident enough, even now, to just blurt it out, to just _beg_ Eren to go harder like he always does in his fantasies, so he hopes the little wiggle of his hips is of enough hint for Eren.

Eren lowers himself close to just press against Jean, to kiss and suck his neck as he gives the blonde what he wants. His reward is exuberant; Jean under him withering and moaning and humping himself against the bed to get friction for his own neglected cock. He very much enjoys the fact that he’s so close to the edge, so close that if Eren was to as much as grab his balls, he’d come immediately, but he also enjoys making it last longer. He wants to make Eren come first, wants to hear how he sounds when he orgasms, wants to feel how frantic and desperate he can become in his movements when he’s seconds away from unloading.

Eren presses him against the bed with his weight, his teeth sure to leave some stories to tell later on Jean’s neck, Jean’s face half-buried in the sheets. Eren holds Jean by his shoulders, Jean’s hands in the bed to keep himself from moving _too_ much. Eren’s already getting lost in it, his hips slapping against Jean’s ass with loud, obscene sounds, and Jean knows somewhere under his deliriousness he won’t be able to sit properly for a while.

And if that doesn’t turn him on so much more, nothing does.

“Baby, baby, I’m so close,” Eren’s voice, high and whiny, comes from between his teeth, and Jean clenches his ass around Eren’s dick, something he learned from the internet. It makes Eren’s voice break in the middle of a moan, and his nails in turn sink into Jean’s skin. “’M so close, baby—”

“Wait, wait, I wanna come with you,” Jean whines, and he has to repeat it a couple of times to make Eren slow down. “Wait, I’ll turn around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eren breathes. He pulls out and lets Jean roll on his back, and immediately their mouths crash together, and Eren grabs his own cock to push back in Jean’s ass. They moan simultaneously as he does, and Jean wraps his legs familiarly around Eren’s waist.

He really doesn’t waste time to get back in the insane rhythm, to get them both back so close to their orgasms that all the sounds coming out of their mouths are just incoherent moaning and words jumbled up together.

Jean winds his fingers around himself, Eren entwining their other hands together on the bed and all they can do is stare at each other, eyes half-lidded and dark with lust as Eren fucks himself over the edge, Jean following him seconds after, his cum flying record-breakingly long and high, on both their stomachs and chests, too. All Eren can repeat when he’s coming is ‘baby, baby, oh god, baby’, while Jean only moans, _loudly_ , the English language long forgotten in his mind.

Eren’s strength gives out the second his orgasm’s flushed over him, his dick so deep in Jean it feels like he’s about to be split in half and he almost falls on top of Jean, who doesn’t exactly protest. He wraps his arms around Eren in appreciation as he crashes, holds him close and snuggles his face against Eren’s sweaty neck.

“That was amazing,” he hears Eren mumble, most of the words muffled, like they are coming from a mile away. He chuckles silently.

“Yeah,” he agrees, completely drained of any and all energy. It’s the best goddamn sensation he’s ever felt, it’s the mix of an utter bliss and an utter exhaustion, and the way Eren feels on top of him, his breath tickling his skin, his heartbeat loud in his chest, it’s too much and he almost blurts out loud every cliché and every sentimental thought he can think of.

But Eren gets there first.

“I really, really like you,” he mumbles, his voice matching the exhaustion in Jean’s eyes as his lids fall shut.

“And I really, really, _really_ like you.”


End file.
